Tantrum
by SweeneyToddRocksMySocks
Summary: Did you ever wonder what Mrs. Lovett did after Anthony left? Read to find out!


_A/N: No, I haven't given up on _Hysterical Window Washing_, this just popped into my head the other day and I couldn't get it out. I always wondered what Mrs. Lovett did after Anthony burst in on her would-be romantic moment._

**Disclaimer:** I'm pretty sure we've been over this before. I do not own anything. At all. Not one bit. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Now that we've covered that, lets get on with the story.

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"We could 'ave a life us two." Mrs. Lovett said, "Maybe not like I dreamed, maybe not like you remember. But we could get by."

Mr. Todd turned around to face her. _He's cracking_ thought Mrs. Lovett, _I've got 'im now. Just say it Sweeney Todd. Say alright. Say we can. You know we could be fine together._ Her eyes shone with hope, and she could see that he didn't think it such a bad idea.

Then _he_ showed up.

"Mr. Todd!" Anthony shouted, "Mrs. Lovett ma'am!"

Mr. Todd tore his gaze from Mrs. Lovett's face. "What is it Anthony?"

The sailor struggled to catch his breath. "He has her locked in a madhouse." he gasped.

"Johanna?" Sweeney whispered.

"Fogg's asylum." replied Anthony, "I've circled the place a dozen times, there's no way in. It's a fortress!"

Mr. Todd strode towards the boy. "I've got 'im." he muttered. Mrs. Lovett heart sank. Always the bloody old judge. _I'll never get through to 'im at this rate!_ She thought miserably.

Anthony obviously didn't hear him. "Mr. Todd?" he asked.

"We've got her." Sweeney answered, "Where do you suppose all the wigmakers in London go to obtain their hair? Bedlam. They get it from the lunatics at Bedlam."

"I don't understand." said Anthony, extremely confused.

Mr. Todd turned to Anthony. "We shall set you up as a wigmaker's apprentice. That will gain you access. And then you take her! Go, quickly. Go!"

Anthony rushed from the shop, and ran down the street.

As soon as he left, Sweeney turned back to his window. "Fetch the boy." he said to Mrs. Lovett.

"Don't you think you should leave the boy alone?" pleaded Mrs. Lovett. He glared at her and she sighed. _I guess 'e doesn't think 'e should leave the boy alone _she thought.

Walking down the stairs to her shop, she called to Toby, who was cleaning off tables. "Toby. Mr. Todd needs you."

He must have detected the hurt in her voice for he simply said, "Yes mum." instead of asking why Mr. Todd needed him.

Inside her shop, Mrs. Lovett was fuming. Every piece of dough she pounded with her rolling pin, she imagined was Anthony's face. "Stupid stupid boy!" she shouted to no one in particular. She stomped down the bakehouse steps and stomped all the way up them again, pretending that they were the sailor's bruised and beaten body, while carrying finished pies. This make-believe did little to soothe her angry feelings. She threw a mug against the wall. "I had him!" she cried, "He was so close to saying it!"

A plate joined the mug on the other side of the shop. It was a good thing that the dishes were tin or else there would have been quite a mess. But Mrs. Lovett was too upset to care about this little fact.

"He was so close!" she repeated, "But that stupid, bloody sailor 'ad to bust in and ruin it all!" Mrs. Lovett stamped her foot and threw a fork. It imbedded itself into the wall, leaving a nice big tear in the wallpaper. She growled and ran a hand through her hair. "That daft child just 'as to ruin everything doesn't 'e?" she screamed. Mrs. Lovett remembered how he ran in just before Mr. Todd was about to kill the judge.

Angrily, she stalked over to where the fork was buried in the wall. A few tugs and it was out. Instead of putting it away, Mrs. Lovett slammed the fork on the countertop, over and over again. "I had him!" she exclaimed between slams. Her "I had him"'s soon turned into "I hate him!"'s as she continued to pound the counter with the utensil. With a final slam, the fork flew from her fingers and clattered on the floor. She stared at the fork for a few moments and then burst into tears.

Mrs. Lovett sank to the floor and buried her head in her hands as she continued to sob. Her shoulders shook and her hands became wet from her tears. After a while, her crying subsided and she raised her head. She realized that customers would soon be arriving. Jumping up from the floor, she hurriedly began to pick up the mess caused by her tantrum. She raced down to the bakehouse to retrieve her pies before they burned. _I _will_ get through to 'im,_ she thought, _'E just needs a little more time. And, less time brooding about the bloody old judge wouldn't 'urt either!_ As she served her customers (without Toby's help) she was filled with new hope. _What's your rush?_ She sang in her head. _All good things come to those who can wait!_

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_A/N: What do you think? I'm not sure I like it a whole lot. But I'd love to hear your opinion. Just click that little review button right down there. It's that simple! :P_


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